Just the tip: good or bad, everything’s your fault.
Fit? Your fault.
Fat? Your fault.
Happy? Your fault.
Sad? Your fault.
Rich? Your fault.
Poor? Your fault.
Loved? Your fault.
Lonely? Your fault.
Fulfilled? Your fault.
Unsatisfied? Your fault.
The masses don’t believe this.
Sure, they’ll take credit for whatever goes right.
But when it doesn’t?
Always an excuse:
Genetics. Parents. Teachers. Government. The economy. That wingding Willy from across the street. Bosses. Kids. Not enough time. No energy. Depression. Anxiety. Lack of resources. Location.
Anything. Doesn’t matter.
All cop outs.
They make you feel safe. Comfy. Cozy.
But that’s just it.
You trade that for achievement, gratitude, greatness, bliss.
Because you can’t have both.
Like:
Without risk, there’s no wealth.
Without suffering, there’s no rippling, rock-hard abs.
Without vulnerability, there’s no lasting love.
And so on and so forth.
Blame’s that best friend from high school who never grew up.
Still expects you to play video games.
Or go get f*cked up on a Tuesday.
But you’re 35.
Married.
Three kids.
Full-time job.
Just started an internet business on the side.
So while it’s tempting to go hang, you can’t.
Not if you wanna lose the weight.
Build the business.
Coach youth baseball.
Do date night once a week.
Read a book a month.
Volunteer on the weekends.
Find your first real estate investment.
Travel more.
Become better in every way.
Nope.
You gotta cut blame outta your life.
Own everything.
“It’s all my fault.”
“I’m in control.”
Damn right it’s scary, extreme… often unpleasant.
But now you’re free to become whoever the f*ck you wanna be.
And that’s the point.
